Pineapples in New York
by Silver Fox Animagus
Summary: Shawn and Gus get into trouble in New York City
1. Chapter 1

yeah I have issues…but I needed a crossover of two of my most favoritest tv shows of all time! anyways I have 3 chapters of this already written, but am running out of ideas, so let me know if you have any!

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><p>"GUS!" The shout could be heard by the man called Gus, even though he was all the way in the back room of their office, while the shouter was barely through the door."GUS COME HERE!" came the inevitable follow-up shout. Shawn could never just go to Gus…no Gus always had to drop everything and run to Shawn. He sighed. He wasn't really sure why he always did go to Shawn, instead of making Shawn come to him every once in a while. His thoughts rambled as he walked slowly to where Shawn was now lounging on one of the chairs in the front room.<p>

"What is it now Shawn?" he snapped irritably. He had been going through some old files and financial records, and was eager to get back to them. They weren't going to organize themselves, and Gus was sure that Shawn was only going to distract him with some pointless venture. He didn't disappoint.

"Guess what we're doing!" Shawn ordered in an irritatingly sing-songy voice. Gus sighed. He really was not in the mood for guessing games. Shawn seemed to be able to sense this, and immediately backtracked. He sat up in the chair and said in an uncharacteristically serious voice "We are going to…" he paused here for dramatic effect, which was completely ruined when the phone rang.

"Oh come on!" Shawn yelled, thoroughly upset about this. "That completely ruined the moment! There's no point in waiting for dramatic effect now I guess." He threw his arms up in exasperation, not seeming to notice that the phone was going unanswered. "We're going to New York." He called to Gus over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen.

Gus, who had been about to answer the phone, suddenly turned towards where Shawn was, rummaging through the mini-fridge. "Are you crazy!" he demanded of his friend.

"Not really sure." Shawn answered offhandedly. "Never been tested. My dad was always suspicious though." He said, managing to keep a straight face all the way through the end of his monologue. Seeing his friend's death glare he started to laugh. "Come on Gus! It'll be fun!"

"Fun like a root canal..." Gus complained under his breath. "Do I have a choice?" he asked in a tone that implied he knew, and dreaded, the answer to his question.

"Nope!"Shawn said in a tone that could only be called chipper. I already have the plane tickets and hotel room booked!"

"Fine." Gus relented, recognizing and admitting defeat in the matter. He started back towards the back room muttering about files and packing.

"Oh come on Gus!" Shawn called after his retreating back. "It'll be fun!"


	2. Chapter 2

tada! I really have nothing to say about this...other than that I'm posting it instead of writing a DBQ...yeah that's basically it...

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><p>"Ugh." Gus groaned as the two men stepped out of the airport, dragging their suitcases behind them, and were hit with the full force of the mid-day sun. Gus was looking slightly green, and was clutching at his stomach with his free hand. Long plane rides always made him sick. Shawn, on the other hand, was looking like a 2 year old with a lollipop, practically bouncing as he thought about all the fun things they could do in New York City.<p>

"If I don't eat something soon I think I'm going to be sick." Gus moaned, clutching at his stomach with both hands this time. He looked around, in search of a place to eat.

Shawn sighed. Real life always had to encroach on fantasy, he thought sadly as he too looked around for a suitable restaurant. "How about that place?" he asked, pointing to a questionable looking bar and restaurant across the street from the airport.

"Alright, fine." Gus agreed immediately. "He must really not be feeling good." Shawn thought idly, watching his friend as they crossed the street. "He normally would never agree to go to a place like this when there are so many nice restaurants around." He finished his thought as they entered the restaurant.

The two men looked around them. The restaurant was pretty crowded, despite its appearance. Or rather, _because_ of its appearance. The crowd in here seemed to be doing some less than legal dealings. However Shawn's sharp eyes spotted a circular booth towards the back of the restaurant that only had one occupant, who looked fairly normal. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and his tousled hair was covered by the fedora perched on his head. Overall he looked pretty classy.

Shawn nudged Gus, and inclined his head toward the booth, before he started walking in that direction. Gus followed closely behind him, shooting furtive glances at some of the more violent looking patrons.

As they reached the table Shawn immediately plopped himself down, opposite the man, ignoring the annoyed glare that was shot his way. "Hello there!" Shawn greeted the other man, who was looking around anxiously. "I'm Shawn, and this is Gus!" Shawn introduced them. Gus was looking decidedly less queasy, but very uneasy. The man opposite them was mumbling something that sounded like "We have a problem Peter."

"Who are you?" Shawn prompted, when it became apparent that the other man wasn't going to offer an introduction of his own accord.

"Nicholas Halden." The man offered in a preoccupied voice, still looking around himself anxiously. Shawn's detective training was kicking in. there was something off about this guy. Shawn pulled out his phone to send a text to Gus, informing him of his suspicions, when the phone slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, the sound muffled by the carpet. He slipped under the table, unnoticed, to retrieve it.

It was then that he noticed a faint green light coming from where Nicholas was sitting. Shawn unlocked his phone and used the backlight to see where it was coming from. It was coming from an electronic device attached to the man's ankle. Shawn didn't know much about police equipment, seeing as how he didn't technically work for the police, but he knew enough to know that this was a tracking anklet. And an expensive one, by the looks of it.

"But why would he be wearing a tracking anklet?" Shawn wondered as he came up from under the table. Now that he was on the alert Shawn noticed something else that was suspicious—Nick's watch. It wasn't obvious. Only someone trained to see things like that would have noticed it. The hands on the watch weren't moving.

"It must be an audio recording device." Shawn thought, the years of training with his father kicking in. Gus seemed to have noticed his friend's newfound wariness towards the man, and was looking anxiously between the two of them.

"Hey Nick," Shawn started, sounding nonchalant. "Care to explain why you're wearing a tracking anklet?" he finished, letting a note of suspicion creep into his voice. The man paled, and seemed even more nervous than before.

"Keep your voice down." He commanded in an authoritative whisper. "Damn it Peter, I told you…" he added, muttering to himself.

"And I also couldn't help but notice that your watch really isn't a watch at all." Shawn continued, disregarding Nick's command to talk quietly. Quite a few people were staring at them now. The man became even paler, and said in a whispered voice laced with fear "You don't know what you're getting into here Shawn. Shut up and leave."

"I don't think we will." Shawn said defiantly, though Gus looked like all he wanted to do was to listen to the man, and get the hell out of there. "You see, back in Santa Barbara we work for the police—"

"Shut. UP." Nick said in a louder voice now. "You're blowing my cover, you idiot."

"What cover?" Shawn asked, looking thoroughly confused. "I've seen a lot of police officers and detectives, and you look like neither." He added. He obviously couldn't grasp the fact that there were people higher up than detectives out there. Nick ground his teeth together in frustration. "Just leave. Me. Alone." He ground out. He was on the verge of his breaking point, a place he did not enjoy being.

"You know what Gus?" Shawn asked, looking over at his terrified friend. "I think we should call the police."

This was the final straw for Nick. Threatening to call the police on him—like that would work. He was a world class criminal, albeit a reformed one. And these dolts thought a couple of police officers could catch him? He was on his feet before his mind could process what he was doing. "I'M WITH THE FBI YOU IDIOTS!" he screamed. As soon as it was out of his mouth he realized what he had said. In a matter of seconds they were surrounded. "Shit." He said, looking around at the circle of men, who more than likely didn't share his aversion to violence.

Two men grabbed his arms and dragged him, too stunned to fight, into a room at the back of the restaurant. Shawn and Gus sat open mouthed in the no longer crowded restaurant. No one else seemed shocked at the events that had just transpired. Shawn turned to Gus still shocked. "We just blew an FBI agents cover." He said in a detached voice. Gus nodded and looked towards the door that the man had been dragged through a moment before. "Should we do something?" he wondered aloud, at the same moment that a squad of armed FBI agents burst through the front door.

"Jones" the lead agent barked out over his shoulder. "Detain them." He said, nodding his head towards where Shawn and Gus were sitting.

One of the agents broke off of the group, and walked over to where they were sitting. "Follow me." He said in a voice that implied he didn't like them too much. As they stood up to go the agents rammed through the door to the back room and rushed in, guns at the ready.

"Well this is shaping up to be an exciting trip." Shawn said as they exited the restaurant, earning glares from both Gus and the agent.


	3. Hat Tricks

Hello! This is the last bit of the story that I have pre-written, so any and all ideas would be greatly appreciated! Thanks to everyone who took the time out of their days to review, every one makes my day a little better. Now that that mushiness is over with, on to the story! (this chapter was named by Alina Lassiter b the w)

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><p>Shawn and Gus sat in the glass office and waited for something to happen. They had been brought to the FBI headquarters after their disastrous run in with an undercover agent. They had been sitting in this office for a few hours now, and Shawn did not take well to boredom.<p>

"Gus, we are in New York City. In the FBI headquarters, no less. And I am bored." Shawn said to his friend, as he propped his feet up on a desk, and tossed a rubber band ball up and caught it a few times. Gus snorted. Only Shawn could cause enough mayhem to get them in trouble with the FBI, and then talk about how bored he was.

Quite a few agents shot Shawn dirty looks after that exclamation. A lot of the agents were whispering to one another about "Caffrey this," and "Neal that" and "Caffrey letting his cover get blown." Shawn wasn't sure what they were talking about. It was improbable that two agents got their covers blown in the same night, but they hadn't blown and Neal Caffrey's cover. The man they had been sitting with had been Nick Halden.

The two men had to sit in the FBI offices for another few hours, enduring either scathing glances shot at the two of them, or confused glances shot at Shawn, who was still playing with the rubber band ball. Shawn had begun to count the time by the amount of glares that were shot his way. After 47 death glares and 24 confused looks finally something happened.

The man who may or may not be called Nick appeared outside of the glass doors to the offices, accompanied by the agent that had lead the rescue party last night. Neal/Nick wasn't looking too good. His hair was even more mussed up than before, and it didn't look intentional this time. His fedora was perched haphazardly on top of his head, and he was walking with a slight limp. He was sporting a black eye and a split lip, but it seemed as though he was trying not to show any weakness. His attempts were futile, however, considering the fact that he was stumbling every few steps, due to what Shawn assumed were the lingering effects of a sedative. The other agent had to catch and steady him a few times, to keep him from falling flat on his face.

After they had entered the office the agent stopped to talk with some other people, while Neal/Nick continued on towards the desk where Shawn was sitting. Shawn listened in, and caught parts of the agents' conversation. "….insisted on giving him sedatives, despite what I told them about the last time…at least this time there wasn't any singing…" Shawn snickered.

"Do you find something funny?" Neal/Nick asked menacingly as he leaned up against the side of the desk. Well, fell into would really be a more accurate description of what happened. Shawn couldn't help but laugh as Neal/Nick had to hold onto the desk just to keep himself upright.

"I don't find this funny!" maybe-Nick growled at Shawn, but Shawn remained unperturbed. "You're loopy! Of course it's funny!" For a second possibly-Neal didn't react, and it seemed like he was remembering something. Then he shook his head, throwing himself off balance again, and almost fell over, only able to remain off the floor because the lead agent grabbed his arm as he passed by and steadied him.

As the agent continued walking he started laughing. "This isn't funny Peter!" Nick/Neal called after his retreating form. "Yes it is!" Peter called over his shoulder, and Neal/Nick growled after him.

He turned his attention back to Shawn when he heard him laughing again. "You're in my seat." He grumbled, still standing unsteadily near the desk. Shawn completely ignored him, and instead responded by saying "I don't think your name is really Nicholas Halden, is it?"

"Of course it's not, you idiot. My name's Neal, as I'm sure you've already heard. Now you're sitting at my desk. Get up." He commanded, the effect totally ruined when he slurred some of the words together.

"Come on Neal!" Shawn said happily, talking to him like they were old friends. "Lighten up!"

"Lighten up!" Neal sputtered angrily. "You just got me beaten up, you're sitting at my desk, I'm having my second horrible experience with sedatives, not to mention the fact that you burned a perfectly good alias, and you want me to lighten up!" he finished his rant loudly, his voice had been growing progressively louder as he continued on, finishing up as a loud shriek.

A lot of people were staring at them now. No one had ever been able to get Caffrey this riled up before, not even Peter. But Shawn didn't look the least bit wary of the fuming ex-con. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself.

Then Shawn did something that went too far. He took Neal's hat. If looks could kill, then the glare Neal sent at Shawn would have knocked him dead.

"Give. Me. Back. My. Hat." Neal said, through clenched teeth as Shawn put the hat on his own head. "Nope!" Shawn said, in a ridiculously happy voice, as he smiled up at the absolutely furious Neal.

Neal made a swipe for the hat, but Shawn quickly dodged around the office chair, swirling it to face him and using it as a shield. Neal, who had regained some of his motor control, ran to the other side of the desk, making another swipe at the hat. Shawn jerked away at the last second, pushing the chair towards Neal as he skittered backwards. The chair crashed into Neal's chest with a surprising amount of force, and sent the already off balance man tumbling to the ground.

Gus was just walking back into the office area from the bathroom, (where the author sent him when she realized that she had neglected to write him a single line in the entire scene) and when he saw Neal go crashing to the carpet he abruptly turned around and walked right back out again.

Neal remained on the ground, appearing to have been either knocked unconscious or to have gone to sleep. No one approached him though, because they all knew him well enough to know that if he was unconscious he wouldn't want any help, and if he was asleep and they woke him up all hell would break loose…again. The select few that knew him really well knew that neither of those two options was possible. Neal would never give up a fight, ever, and that included stopping to take a nap. And he couldn't be unconscious, because he hadn't hit his head. They didn't go to help him because they knew, from experience, that he had to be planning something.

However, Shawn did not know him at all, and had been too busy running away to notice whether or not Neal had hit his head. So after a good few minutes of waiting on the other side of the room for Neal to get up and come after him again Shawn started slowly walking towards the man lying on the floor.

Neal heard Shawn's footsteps as he approached him. His plan was working perfectly. He had the urge to smile, as he always did when his cons were working out just as he had planned them, but years of training allowing him to keep his face void of any emotion.

As Shawn got closer he noticed that Neal was still breathing, which greatly relieved him. Something seemed off about the situation. Why was no one else attempting to help him? But despite his apprehension he continued to approach Neal, feeling more than a little responsible for the situation.

As he reached Neal he leaned over his still form, and poked him on the forehead. "Neal? Hellooo? Are you awake?" Shawn asked, poking Neal repeatedly. Neal had to work to keep himself still, but years of training weren't for nothing.

Then Shawn grabbed Neal's shoulders and shook him a little. The next events happened so quickly that hardly anyone saw what happened. Neal reached up and grabbed Shawn's shoulders, pulling him to the ground next to where he was laying while simultaneously using the momentum to pull himself back up. The move seemed extremely practiced, and Shawn wondered why an F.B.I. agent would ever need to use something like that.

Neal reached down and plucked the hat back off of Shawn's head, and put it on his own with a neat little flip. He stood there for another moment, smirking down triumphantly at Shawn, before he turned around and headed up to Peter's office.

Shawn hoisted himself up on one elbow, staring after Neal with a newfound respect for the man.


End file.
